


You Don’t Touch Them

by PrairieMule



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Fist Fights, Gen, Micah gets his ass kicked, One Shot, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25537834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrairieMule/pseuds/PrairieMule
Summary: Still new to the gang, Micah has gone and pushed the wrong people too far. Arthur won't let it slide this time.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 79
Collections: Red Dead 2 Faves





	You Don’t Touch Them

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I was talking with a friend about how Micah HAD to have gotten into a physical fight with Arthur at some point. Considering the way he behaves, pushing people to their limits and constantly antagonizing folks, and with Arthur being in charge of keeping the men in line, seems like it all points to them having a brawl at least once. So this is my attempt to write that.

_1898 - Somewhere in the Grizzlies_

The morning fire danced and crackled as Arthur sat, leaned up against a log, staring into the flames and warming his stiff bones. He’d slept in, not something he usually did, or liked doing. Life had been fairly easy the past few months. This forest camp in the Grizzlies was safe, and food abundant. There wasn’t much to do quite yet, not until they moved further south for the winter.

They’d picked up a few new folks in the meantime, the gang growing larger and stronger over the years. It was becoming more of a chore to manage all the rowdy men. At least the ladies were on Grimshaw’s hands.

Around the campfire with him, Sean was chattering with the Callander boys, the three of them already drinking. But with not much to do, Arthur couldn’t blame them. Some raucous laughter erupted from them, and Pearson yelled at them to shut up from the nearby chuck wagon.

“Lighten up you salty turd.” Sean shot back.

“Yeah, lighten up!” Davey repeated, slurred.

Mac slapped Davey. “Shut up, Davey.” He hollered. “Don’t make the cook mad, he’ll put something nasty in your stew.”

“That’s right!” Pearson replied, stabbing his butcher’s knife into a slab of meat. “I will, and I promise you . . . ” He lowered his voice. “I _have_.”

Drunkenly Davey stood, disgust on his face. “W-what? When?”

Pearson only laughed and returned to his work.

“Sit down, boy.” Arthur interjected. “He ain’t serious. And if he is, you probably deserved it.”

Mac grinned. “Listen to Morgan, Davey. If you won’t listen to me.”

Davey plopped back down, silent fear written on his intoxicated expression.

“Why don’t you join us for a drink, big man?” Sean asked, reaching into the crate of whiskey for another bottle.

“I’m sure I will later.” Arthur replied, sitting up and blinking the fire from his eyes. “Should do a few things first though.”

“Ah, you’re not fun.” Sean laughed.

He raised a brow. “Yes, I’m sure drunkenly cutting my own leg with an axe would be so much fun.”

The Irishman giggled. “That would be a sight. Alright, alright, I’ll leave you alone.”

Wandering away from the fire, Arthur crossed through camp, passing a few tents along the way. A quick glance into one showed John still passed out on his cot, with a sigh he looked across the way to what was once Hosea’s tent, seeing Abigail darning a sock, and young Jack playing with a toy horse.

He nearly decided to give his little brother a piece of his mind had Hosea not come around a corner. “Arthur, Arthur there you are.” The silver haired man greeted him.

“Hosea.” Arthur nodded, moving away from John’s tent.

“I should like to speak to you and Dutch about a few things, whenever that man decides to get out of bed.”

“Such as?”

“Where we’re headed come winter, and what we’ll be doing about food the next few days. Can’t have Charles doing all the hunting. He needs a break.”

“He’s been so helpful, and we hardly know the man. You’re right, though, I was thinking something similar.”

Hosea nodded, agreeing. “He’s been a good addition to the gang, unlike _some_ folk.”

Knowing who he meant, Arthur grumbled. “Yeah . . .”

The older man shook his head. “What Dutch sees in that animal is beyond me.”

“Himself, maybe.” Arthur shrugged.

“I hate that you’re probably right.”

“Me too.” He sighed.

A few more idle pieces of conversation and Hosea carried on. Arthur continued his journey to the wood chopping stump, his head busy with too many thoughts. 

These thoughts were interrupted when he neared the ladies’ wagon. Hearing Karen yell something.

“Why don’t you just back off and go do something useful?”

A smug, grating voice replied. “I _am_ doing something useful, making sure you women are working.”

Arthur didn’t even need to see it to know what was happening. Abandoning his mission, he immediately turned to stop whatever madness Mr. Bell had brought upon them.

Karen had stood up, the rest of the ladies attempting to go about the usual laundry routine. Doing their best to ignore the goading.

“You ain’t Ms. Grimshaw.” Karen laughed. “You’re about three times as loud, and not a tenth as useful as she is.”

“You sure do talk big, woman. You even know how to read?”

“Boy, I could ask you the same thing. How _do_ you see past that nasty mustache?”

“See well enough to shoot a man between the eyes.” He almost seemed to purr.

Karen scoffed, unimpressed. “You ain’t special, Bell. Acting like you’re the only one ‘round here who can use a god damn pistol.” She put her hands on her hips. “I killed plenty of men myself, but you don’t see _me_ acting all high and mighty.”

“Oh really, then what would you call this behavior?” He took a step closer. “Seems you’re acting like you shouldn’t have to work just cause I’m standing here.”

“See, that’s the problem. _You’re_ just _standing_ there. If only you’d bother to do something of value around here. Stop acting like _you’re_ too good to work.”

“It’s simple, woman. I go out and make money. You stay here and clean my underthings.”

Karen laughed again. “If you don’t think us ladies are biased about our work, then you’re dumber than I thought.”

Micah went to argue further, and Arthur’d had just about enough of it, finally moving in to intervene. “Micah what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The slimy man turned with a smirk on his face, disfiguring that gnarled chin scar even further. “My, my. If it isn’t Morgan, you coming to defend the fair maiden’s honor?” He stepped away from Karen and closer to him. “You should know she don’t got any honor left to defend, if you ain’t too dumb to catch my meaning.”

Ignoring the comment, Arthur pressed on. “Don’t you have anything better to do than harass them? Go make yourself useful. Do some scouting. Go take up guard duty. Anything. Not that’d I trust you to keep us safe at night.”

“Trust? You think I care about your trust? We’re criminals, Morgan.”

“Outlaws, Bell.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever difference that makes in that block head of yours.” Micah laughed, a gross, irritating sound.

“You keep badmouthing us, and it ain’t gonna end nicely, boy.” Arthur replied, voice gone low with menace.

“Oh it surely won’t. Not for you, big man. You like to act tough don’t you? But I think you must be a lot more bark than bite.”

Arthur pointed to himself. “I don’t give a damn what you think of _me_ , Bell.” Then he pointed to the ladies. “But you _don’t_ talk to them like that.”

“A knight in shining armor, huh? Well with a name like _Arthur_ , I suppose I shouldn’t be so surprised.”

“Do you know who you’re talking to? You best stop pushing me.” The enforcer growled, throwing back his shoulders and standing to his full, impressive height, no longer hiding it behind a slouch. “You’re not going to enjoy what happens.”

Micah stepped closer. “You don’t scare me, Morgan. Not one bit.”

At that point, Tilly had put her work down and pushed past Karen, getting between the three of them. “That is enough.” She put a hand on either man, a vague attempt to move them apart. “Let’s all just get back to work, alright?”

With disgust written on his face, Micah turned to Tilly. “You don’t _touch_ me.” Then he shoved, making her fall back and hit the ground. “Don’t you have some socks to clean?”

“Christ!” Tilly yelped as she hit the ground.

Mary-Beth and Jenny gasped, looking on in horror.

Karen went wide-eyed for a split second before her brows scrunched in anger. “What the hell is your problem?!” She shouted, reeling back her arm and decking Micah square in the nose.

Stumbling backwards, Micah brought a hand to his face, checking for blood, then readjusting his hat. He sneered. “Heh heh heh, you sure do hit hard, lady. But I bet you I hit a hell of a lot harder.” 

Karen squared up as Micah turned to face her fully once more, bringing up his own fist in retaliation.

But before he could make his swing, Arthur grabbed the smaller man’s shoulder, yanking him around. Seething, he stared Micah down. “Don’t you lay another finger on them.”

Micah seemed to laugh at this display, still unimpressed. “Stop acting-”

Arthur didn’t let him finish the sentence, gripping his shoulder harder, he swiftly punched Micah in the gut with all the force he could muster. 

He let the pathetic man go, and watched with pleasure as Micah’s back talking was silenced in an instance, and the man struggled to regain his breath as he stumbled backwards, holding his stomach.

“Son of a _bitch_!” Micah finally howled, one hand staying on his stomach, the other not so subtly reached for a gun.

If Arthur hadn’t been seeing red before, he was now. Charging the other man, He caught Micah’s chest with his shoulder, tackling and lifting him off his feet, carrying him a few paces before slamming him to the ground, hard. The overly decorative revolver knocked from his hand. 

“I’ve had enough of you.” Arthur snarled, gripping the man around the neck as he would any other fool that tried to fight him. He reeled back his other fist threw a heavy punch at Micah’s face. Hearing a satisfying crunch sound and watching blood fly.

Thoroughly pinned to the ground, Micah had nowhere to go. He grabbed at the hand choking him, yanking and pulling with all his might, but Arthur did not let up, his grip like iron. 

Micah had greatly underestimated their difference in raw strength. Options limited, he resorted to punching Arthur in the cheek a few times, then flailing and squirming. With limited movement, the hits were weak and lacked momentum. Through his rage, Arthur didn’t much feel them.

So Arthur hit back harder, directly in the face, Micah spat out blood. Kicking to break free, nothing changed, and the enforcer laid into the man, pummeling him until the struggling stopped. 

Then he threw a few more punches for good measure.

Micah’s face bloodied, Arthur released his throat and grabbed him by the collar. Standing up, he yanked Micah to his feet with ease. Arthur stood tall, making sure the newbie recognized how much smaller he was. 

Then Arthur spoke, filling each word with every ounce of intimidation he had in him. “ _You don’t touch them_.”

Micah’s cold blue eyes stared back at him, filled with putrid malice and hatred, but for once, Micah Bell couldn’t speak. So Arthur shoved the little man, watching him stumble again, and fall on his ass.

By now, camp had heard this commotion. The first to arrive and witness the madness was Javier, running in from the woods. Repeater in hand from guard duty he looked between the two men, to the ladies, then back to the men. His eyes went and focused on Micah, a laugh erupted from his belly. “You piece of shit, it’s about time you got put in your place!”

Spitting blood from his mouth, Micah stood on his own wobbly legs as more and more people showed up. He looked at the lot of them, eyes finally landing back on Arthur, “That weren’t a fair fight, and you know it Morgan.”

Arthur scoffed, absentmindedly cracking his knuckles and shaking away the on setting numbness. “Don’t try and twist what happened, Bell.” He threw out one bloodied hand. “Get lost!”

Micah straightened his jacket and picked up his hat. “You want to fight me again, make sure it’s fair.” He hissed, turning and shoving past Javier, who only laughed at the pathetic display.

“He’s a real piece of work.” Javier said. “You all okay?”

Behind Arthur, Hosea spoke up, having shown up with a few others. “What the hell happened here?”

John, barefoot and hair a mess, came up too, repeating Hosea’s sentiment. “What that moron do now?” 

Arthur looked over to Tilly, whom Karen had helped up. Then back to John. “Started picking fights with the wrong people.” He said simply.

“That’s it?” Sean hollered over the crowd. “No fun, thrilling story?”

“Just get out of here and give us some space.” Arthur shot back, blood still pumping and adrenaline high. “Christ alive, acting like there ain’t ever been a fight in camp.”

After a bit more discussing, the crowd dispersed, and Arthur walked up to the ladies. “If he bothers you again. Just tell me, please.” He said to the lot of them. “I know you can handle him, but seems he don’t like to listen.”

“You know I don’t much like being saved . . . but thank you.” Karen said, struggling to express herself.

“I know, I know. I understand the feeling.” Then he looked to Tilly. “You ain’t hurt, are you, Ms. Jackson?”

She laughed. “I’ve had much worse than a little shove, Arthur. Just surprised me is all.”

He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly before letting up. “You’re as tough as they come, Tilly Jackson. Don’t let that fool bother you.” Then he let her go completely and stood up straight. “I will never understand why Dutch brought him in.”

“He's gonna get one of us killed.” Tilly sighed, crossing her arms in disgust.

Arthur shook his head then looked in the direction Micah had disappeared. “God, I hope not . . . but I ain’t gonna be surprised when it happens.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've never done a one shot before, hope it didn't end too abruptly or anything. This is also the first time I've written Micah. So hope I did okay there too.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @prairiemule, I post nothing but Red Dead.


End file.
